


The State of Their Knees

by JayMitchell



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-08 21:30:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayMitchell/pseuds/JayMitchell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And I assume she scrubbed your floor, going by the state of her knees."</p><p>At least Sherlock was correct about the floor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The State of Their Knees

Andrew Anderson had been waiting for this week since, well, the last time it had happened. It was rare that he got this chance, and when it came, he spared no expense to prepare what she had always liked. 

  


Food? Check.

  


DVD? Check.

  


Functioning DVD player? Functioning and ready to go.

  


He recalled this afternoon's events, when Dimmock and Lestrade were nudging at each other, exchanging smirks and (undignified) snorts. "Pay no attention to them," Sally had said when she passed by his desk to pick up the weekly report for the Forensics team. He could only reply with a grin, and that was when Dimmock lost it.

  


"Lovely evening ahead, right 'Drew?" the young DI asked,  making the older DI deliver a sharp elbow to the arm in order to stop him from moving forward.

  


But not even their taunts could ruin this night. "Lovely, been excited for this, it is well planned and you idiots probably got it wrong."

  


Lestrade gave a cough, put on a serious face and started stroking his chin. "Well, Detective Inspector Dimmock has gathered that you have spent enough to cover for the amenities of a visitor who will stay for a week. That, and the fact that you seem to be chirpy in crime scenes. Which, you know, involves a dead body."

  


Anderson looked at him, trying to recall any incident at all where he displayed "chirpiness". 

  


"You were smiling upon a dead body Anderson," Dimmock said "And in case you forgot, that's creepy, not chirpy." As a reply, Anderson hit him with his organiser before locking it inside his desk. 

  


The jokes and jeers continued. Sally, ever his saviour, stepped in, smacking both Dimmock and Lestrade in the underside of their heads. "Give him a break, will you? He deserves some peace and 'me' time from all the stress this line of work brings."

  


When the two DIs finally left, Anderson breathed a sight of relief and thanked Sally for her intervention.

  


"Just call me if you need help."

  


\---

  


She had been  giggling, running around, a ball of energy - a bit too much for him. Not that he didn't enjoy it. But he didn't want to think that he was too old for her, so he pushes on, just to see her laugh.

  


Oh how he loves her laugh.

  


But he needed back up just in case he couldn't carry on.

  


A text bubble- _She's a handful. I am old. Need your help?_

  


_Give me an hour. Hope you don't drop dead until then_. - the reply came.

  


\---

  


The doorbell rang twice, and before Anderson could get up to answer, the ball of energy in the red shirt made its way to the door. "Doorbell! Doorbell!"

  


"I'm coming sweetie. Here I am! Here! No need to rush...."

  


Anderson opened the door, and was extremely grateful for the friendly face.

  


"Sally!" Catheryn giggled, as she immediately wrapped her arms around Sally's leg. She ignored the shocked expression on her father's face as she made the hug tighter.

  


Sally ruffled the already messed up black hair. "Hi, Cath," she looked back and forth between Anderson and Cath and asked, "Giving your daddy a hard time again?"

  


Meanwhile, Anderson, out in his stern face, asked his daughter, "What did daddy say about calling your Aunt Sally by her first name without an 'aunt'?"

  


"That it's not nice and _respectingful_." Cath answered, without letting go of Sally's leg. "But Aunt Sally said that she didn't like it because it made her feel old. And that we are fwends and fwends call each other by name." Anderson could only give Sally a look that said, "What have you done?" 

  


Sally shrugged as Cath took her hand and started pulling her in. "Come in, come in! We're about to watch The Lion King!"

  


Anderson took her purse and her coat, while Cath started to talk about Lion King. 

  


"We're going to watch it about an eleventy-millionth time and daddy made plain popcorn because plain is awesome and cheese is icky and look! Daddy gave me a tiger doll. It's not a lion like Mufasa but they're both big cats so they're like brothers or cousins or something, do you think I can go carry the lions in the zoo like Rafiki did because that is so cool and fluffy!"

  


Cath just went on and on, her hand grasping Sally's as she led her to the living room, never pausing for breath. When she did, she'd inhale deeply and then go on about why Africa was a beautiful place and how she'd like to see Pride Rock and if daddy would let her keep the lion at the zoo. Sally caught a glimpse of Anderson, emptying out the contents of the popcorn into a bigger bowl, and when their looks met, Anderson could only mouth an "I'm sorry,". Sally shook her head and smiled in reply.

 

 

"Eleventy-millionth time!" Cath yelled as she hugged her tiger closer to her chest in one hand and ate popcorn with the other. All three of them were seated comfortably in the couch, until Cath suddenly got up and sat down the floor. 

  


She started tugging at Anderson's pants, saying "Let's watch it from here daddy! The couch wants to rest!" He raised an eyebrow as a reply, but Cath kept tugging and giggling until he gave in and sat on the floor. Cath had looked at Sally, and followed as well, despite Anderson shaking his head, mouthing "No". 

  


Skirt or not, it was always fun to watch from the floor.

  


\---

  


There must have been some truth on the number of times they had watched The Lion King, because Cath was able to follow what Simba was saying. She sang along "I Just Can't Wait to be King", and when Mufasa died, she was clutching at her daddy's shirt, crying - though determined not to let Sally see her. 

  


"I'm Simba, and one day I'm going to rule this rock!" she said, gesturing to the whole flat, arms drawing a big circle.

  


"And your daddy is Mufasa?" Sally asked.

  


Cath giggled again. "No, daddy is Scar!"

  


Anderson suddenly choked on a popcorn. "Scar?"

  


"Yes daddy. Your hair is black. Like Scar's. And you're tiny, like Scar."

  


Sally was smiling at Cath's conviction on Anderson being Scar. "And who is Mufasa, I wonder?"

  


A huge grin lit up Cathy's face. "Uncle Paul! He's gots shiny brown hair and he is tall and strong, just like Mufasa!"

  


Sally could see the apprehension on Anderson's face, which only made her smile even more. "But that means your daddy and your uncle are enemies?" she asked. Cath shook her head vigorously. "They like each other and look out for each other, not like Mufasa and Scar," Cath grabs for more popcorn. "If daddy would fall Uncle Paul would be there to get him up and if Uncle Paul would fall daddy's gonna be there." Another warm smile from Cath. "Daddy's always there." she says, softer this time. Cath then turns to Anderson and hugs him tight. 

  


Sally looks at father and daughter, watches as Anderson's eyes began to water. Father returns the hug, kissing his daughter on the forehead as daughter makes her tiger kiss him  back.

  


Another thing that really amused Sally was, Anderson knew every line, and was able to respond appropriately when Cath would prompt him to reply.

  


"When he was a young warthog!" Cathy sings, and looks at Anderson. He coughs, mock- vocalises and replies, just in time for the line. "When I was a young, wart- hoooooggg!" 

Cath wrinkles her nose, muttering, "Very nice." 

  


Anderson grins. "Thanks."

  


Without warning, Cath launches herself towards Anderson and proceeds to tickle him. She's too fast - Sally can tell he's not letting her win, as his arms were either flailing or avoiding to hit her. 

  


"Sally!" Anderson managed to gasp out. "Help!"

  


Around this time, Sally was laughing at the two. She grabbed for the remote to pause the movie, then for the bowl of popcorn. "Oh no, no, this is way too much fun to be stopped." Who knew Anderson could be that ticklish?

  


"Tickle fight!" Cath declared, sending Anderson once again to the floor.

  


When Cath's defences dropped, Anderson took the opportunity for revenge. The movie was forgotten, and laughter now filled the living room. Cath managed to be free of her father, and started to dash for cover behind Sally. Anderson followed - on his knees, crying, "You're not safe behind your Aunt Sally!" 

  


"Save me from Scar, Sally!" Cath yelled as she ducked behind her. Sally gamely joined in, raising her arms and shielding the girl. "Not on my watch, Anderson." She lunged for his outstretched hands, and manoeuvred him around into submission. Within seconds, Anderson's arms were crossed and locked, and Cath had the upper hand.

  


"No more, no more!" Anderson kept repeating, his voice mixed with gasps for air and laughter. He kept squirming, trying to free himself, but to no avail- Sally was surprisingly strong and his daughter knew his weak spots. Cath threw her hands up in the air, claiming her victory, and hugged her father again. Sally released him, to let him return the hug. Then Cath stood up to look for her tiger, while Anderson tried to get up, ended up losing his balance, and tumbled back to Sally. She barely caught his head- instead, he fell to her lap. Already breathless at this point, he tried to mutter an apology. Sally simply pushed him back up again, shaking her head as he slumped back to the couch.

  


"Are nights with her always like this?" she asked as he uncapped the bottle of water and drained it. Anderson let out a satisfied sigh afterwards, and grinned. "This is actually quite a tame night, this is below her par."

  


Sally's eyes grew wide. "You have to be kidding me," but Anderson shook his head and smiled. "Oh believe it. We've only laid destruction, here, at the living room. Most of the time, no room was spared from our antics."

  


"Surprised you used the word 'antics'. Preparing for war is more I'd call it."

  


"I seize every opportunity I have with her, and try to make it memorable. Soon, she'll grow up and forget about her dad the moment she meets boys."

  


"You have my word," Sally said as she raised her right hand. "That I will help you track down and interrogate all her suitors."

  


Anderson let out a one sided grin. "If I let her have suitors. By that time I'll be promoted and have all of Scotland Yard under me. She'll be better protected than the Queen."

  


Cath reappeared from her search, sat herself between them, and asked, "Where were we?" She tried to stifle a yawn, but midway she gave in.

  


"Someone's sleepy..." he started, standing up as he stretched. 

  


Cath hid behind her tiger, "It's Sally!" she said, pointing and hoping her father would believe her. But then another yawn came in, which made her reach out for Anderson.

  


He gently lifted her up, and when he started to walk towards the stairs, Cath asked, "Can Sally read me a story?" Anderson looked at her, about to say no, but Cath's pleading eyes won her over. She stood up and urged Anderson to continue his journey to the room. 

  


"Yay," Cath whispered, fighting to style awake.

  


\---

  


  


In Anderson's room, the bed was clear as to who slept on which side. (Unless Anderson had a thing for pink and purple beddings with unicorns, giving her another material for blackmail purposes.) He laid Cath down, gently, and she grabbed for her other pillow, trying to hug both that and her tiger. Sally was standing by the doorway, touched by what she witnessed tonight. 

  


Anderson had always been the straightforward, no nonsense forensic officer, who gave the cold, hard facts in the cases they were handling. He spent most of his work hours focused on the job on hand, being among those individuals who gave their all for the sake of justice.

  


And now, she saw Anderson the father, who clearly loved and cherished his daughter more than his own life. He did what he can to make her happy, and always let her feel loved. It pained him to have been given limited, measured time to be with her, and he was afraid that it won't be enough to build memories on. He had made it clear; Cath was that important to him, and she wanted her to grow well. He wanted to be with her in every way he can, every time that he could. Why else would he ask for the Friday off? 

  


Cath whispered an "Aunt Sally", reaching out for her. Sally helped herself to a smile, and started to walk to Anderson's side of the bed. She reached for the novelisation of The Lion King, seeing that they did not finish it. Cath's contented smile was her sign to go on.

  


Sally had barely reached the part where Simba and Nala met, when Anderson touched her hand and pointed at Cath, who was already sound asleep. She nodded, and helped out Andeson tuck her in under the covers. She started for the door and waited as Anderson gave his daughter a good night kiss.

  


  


Downstairs, they were cleaning up the day's mess. Anderson insisted on Sally staying put while he cleaned up, and Sally replied that he needed help to get through mess Cath had left.

  


Anderson looked at her as she was fixing up the couch. "Thank you for coming over," he started, as he unplugged the entertainment system and stored away the DVDs. "I could not keep up with her energy."

  


Sally smiled back. "It's all right Andrew," came her reply. "I'd rather have her than bailing out Dimmock on a bar hopping adventure gone wrong. Don't ask." she ended when Anderson was about to do so.

  


He felt his cheeks redden, and looked at somewhere else. His eyes landed on her knees- just her knees- as he noticed some scrapes. "Oh God. We did that to you." Sally looked down, and dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "Battle scars, that's all."

  


When the place was back to it's tidy self again, Sally thanked Anderson for the night, and headed toward the door. He muttered an objection, saying that it was already dark, - "Something might happen, it's not safe out there."

  


"Yes I know, we see a lot of that in our profession."

  


He blubbers on, trying to convey the message to stay for the night.

  


Sally smiled at his thoughtfulness. "I'm an officer of Scotland Yard, I think I can handle myself."

  


"But still.... Better safe than sorry."

  


"Are you looking down on my skills, Anderson? Must I remind you that I got you on your knees for your daughter to launch her tickle attack on you?"

  


He started waving his hands, shaking his head. "No, it's just... You're going to be out there on your own, and, you're alone and..." he looks at her. "Just to be safe. For my peace of mind. And Cath's."

  


An eyebrow was raised. "And where should I sleep?"

  


Anderson gave this a serious thought.

  


"Cath might like it if you were there to protect her."

  


"And you?"

  


Anderson had to decided that the couch would not be bad for his back, just for a night.

  


\---

  


To his dismay, Lestrade had called him that afternoon. He apologised, saying that he promised Anderson the Friday off, but this was another one and he was needed there. 

  


Sally was the one who picked him up, and he was glad that she could explain things for him. Cath looked a bit disappointed, but she gave Anderson a hug and a kiss before they left. Sally also managed to convince Dimmock to babysit- how she did it he never found out as they drove to the crime scene.

  


After a few hours, he met up again with Lestrade. The DI's heavy sigh and sudden exit made his heart heavy. It only meant one thing. _He_ was coming around.

  


An hour passed, and when Lestrade returned by himself, he felt a bit relieved. No sign of him. 

  


Yet.

  


  


Sally's voice announced his arrival, and Lestrade made him welcome the consulting detective.

  


Words were exchanged, Anderson tried to get the upper hand. But this was Sherlock Holmes, and of course he had a trick up his sleeve. He was taken aback by the mention of his deodorant, until Sherlock gestured at Sally, continuing,  "I'm not implying anything. I'm sure Sally came round for a nice little chat and just happened to stay over. And I assume she scrubbed your floor, going by the state of her knees."

  


The look Sally gave him was a cause of alarm. After what he'd done for him last night, the least he could do was to fight back. The ones who were overhearing their exchange were now looking at Sally with such curiosity.

  


It was at this point he had failed.

  


When the smug detective went in to the crime scene, Anderson risked a look at Sally. She was still furious, so he took some more of the risk, approached her and offered an apology.

  


"Don't mind it," she said, wrapping her coat tighter. He has wished it was the chill in the air that made her do it.

  


"The freak doesn't know anything," Sally continued, touching his shoulder as she went on. "Battle scars. I'll proudly wear these battle scars. And you're a better man than he is, a hundred times over."

  


Anderson was smiling as he went up again, wishing the day to be over so he could be where he belonged.


End file.
